Trusting the Tycoon: Cowboys and Angels, #29

by Marianne Spitzer

  Wes shook Leer’s hand, and the two men escorted Steffen from the house.

  “Are you sure they’ll get Steffen back to New York without injury?” Delia asked. “They are rather frightening men.”

  “I believe so, and I doubt Steffen will give them any problems. I’m sure they intimidate him as much as they did you.”

  Wes held out his arms and Delia walked into his embrace. “Thank you, Wes, for being level-headed. I’m sure if you hadn’t been here or challenged those men, I’d be wrapped in a blanket in the back of a wagon on the way to an asylum.”

  “Quite possibly, but I think even if I weren’t here, you’d be protected,” he said and looked over her shoulder at the young maid standing in the corner. “I think you’re safe and where you’re supposed to be now.”

  “How can you be so sure? Steffen could be back or hire someone else.”

  Wes whispered, “Because I can see Mercy and she’s blowing kisses at us.”

  Delia turned and saw Mercy blow a last kiss before she faded away. “She said she’d always be around when I needed her. I wonder if she’ll return.”

  “She will when and if you need her,” Wes assured. “I’m sure now that she’s your guardian angel.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Three days later, Delia slid the chicken into the oven just as she heard the front door open.

  Wes called out, “Delia, are you here?

  “Yes, I’m in the kitchen where it’s warm. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “I’d love a cup,” Wes said, walked into the kitchen, and sat at the table. “I stopped to see Tobias when I went to send a telegram, and he and Louisa are free for supper on Wednesday evening.”

  “That’s wonderful. I think I’ll make pot roast so you won’t have to kill chickens,” Delia giggled, and Wes frowned.

  “I think pot roast will be good. Oh, Tobias told me that Louisa doesn’t eat much sugar. For some reason, it makes her quite ill, and he suggested that you wouldn’t have to bother making a dessert that evening.”

  Delia smiled, “I know all about sugar making Louisa ill. Thankfully, the doctor seemed to understand and suggested she change her diet. That’s why I’m making a pot roast and vegetables. I found an interesting section in my new cookbook. It’s meant to help new cooks make meals when your supplies are running low. I suppose it’s quite helpful to those living a good distance from town. There’s a simple recipe for baked apples that just needs apples and a little bit of butter…no sugar. I’ll bake them for dessert.”

  “I should have known my brilliant wife would come up with an answer before I even had a chance to tell her that there might be a problem with her dinner,” Wes answered and sipped his hot coffee.

  “It wouldn’t be a problem either way,” Delia explained. “I wouldn’t be making dessert until Wednesday, and a change in plans is always easier than changing something already cooked, although in your case if I made a pie or cobbler, you’d just eat it for breakfast the following day.”

  Wes tried to scowl at her statement, but humor danced in his eyes, “I sent a telegram to my friend in New York about the new town library. He’s a good architect, and I think he will draw suitable plans that will fit in with what we want and need on the amount of land we have.”

  Delia wiped her hands on her apron and sat across from Wes, “That is exciting. I can’t wait to see them. Did you include all the ideas we considered?”

  “Yes, and we can discuss this Wednesday evening after supper. I know Tobias and Louisa are anxious to help. If they have suggestions or changes, I can telegraph them to New York and my friend, Cal, can change them. He draws up plans for homes, and some of his clients are quite fussy,” Wes assured Delia. “Now, what do you have to feed a hungry man, so he survives until supper?”

  A mischievous smile crossed Delia’s face, “Pickles or peppers. Anything else will ruin your appetite.”

  Wes shook his head and frowned again.

  ~ * ~

  The scent of pot roast, vegetables, and apples filled the house as Delia hummed in the kitchen. Wes was used to her humming as she cooked, and it made his heart ache that someday he wouldn’t hear her humming or enjoy one of her meals.

  A knock at the door broke Wes out of his gloom. He opened the door and ushered in a cold Tobias and Louisa.

  Delia hurried in from the kitchen and exclaimed, “Oh my, you do look cold. Let Wes take your coats and sit by the fire to warm up.”

  Louisa handed Delia a basket, “It’s a fresh loaf of bread. It was warm when we left home. I think it might be frozen now.”

  “No worries, I’ll place it in the warmer, and it will be good by the time the pot roast is ready. Please sit, and I’ll bring some tea to warm you.”

  After a delightful meal and small talk, the two couples retired to the parlor to discuss the library plans.

  Wes explained about the plot of land he purchased and the general idea of the building. “Do you have any suggestions, Tobias?”

  Tobias shook his head. “No, I think you have everything covered. I’d like to see the plans before the building starts.”

  “Of course,” Wes declared with enthusiasm. “This isn’t my library or Delia’s. This library will belong to the town of Creede. I plan to post a copy of the design where everyone can see it, and I’m going to ask people for suggestions. You could start that now with your customers, Tobias.”

  Tobias nodded, “I can do that. People who come into my shop love books and reading. They may have suggestions. I started a list of books we should order first. I divided it into four categories.”

  Delia leaned forward, “That is wonderful. We need variety right away to ensure people will be behind the idea of a large library. We will build it either way, but it would be a blessing if everyone was as excited as we are.”

  “Tell them what you think, Tobias,” Louisa encouraged.

  “We can’t have a library without the classics. People enjoy reading them several times. We should also have enough newly published books that people have heard of. If a book is popular, we may have to limit the time new books can be borrowed.”

  “I agree,” Wes said and added. “Dee will work at the storefront library and can make the lists of people until we can order the proper forms and paperwork. Dee is quite good with paperwork.”

  Delia blushed, and Louisa said, “I will help when I can. This is exciting.”

  Wes asked, “What other books do you suggest, Tobias?”

  “Educational books are important. Books about geography, history, science, and men of importance.”

  “Don’t forget about important women,” Louisa teased.

  “Books about important women, too, and reference or research books. The latter can wait until the library is built but once the library is fully stocked, we will need the reference books.”

  “Would anyone like more tea?” Delia asked.

  Everyone shook their heads, and Tobias suggested it was time to leave before the weather became worse. It was snowing lightly, but one never knew when it could start dropping harder.

  Louisa stood, “I should help Delia with the kitchen.”

  “No,” Delia insisted. “I can do it, and you should get home safely before the weather worsens.”

  Louisa hugged Delia, “Thank you for supper, and when you come to our home for supper, you’re not allowed to wash dishes.”

  Delia laughed, “All right. I’ll agree but only once.”

  After Tobias and Louisa left, Delia slipped on her apron and cleared the table.

  “Allow me to help,” Wes said.

  “Of course,” Delia answered. “You can help wash dishes any time. Do you think we passed the happily married couple test?”

  “I think so, but I’m not sure if Tobias and Louisa would have noticed. They seem to be more in love each day.”

  “I agree. They do make a lovely couple.”

  Wes pushed his hands into the hot soapy water and complained, “This water is
hot. Maybe I should dry them.”

  “Not now, you started washing you have to finish. House rule.”

  “We have rules for what happens in the house?” Wes asked pretending disbelief.

  Delia laughed, “We do now.”

  “What are the others?”

  “Hmm, I don’t know yet. When I do, you will be the first person I share them with.”

  Wes flicked a bit of soap suds at Delia, and she answered. “Second rule. No throwing soap at your wife.”

  “What if I toss a cup full of water on you,” Wes asked and smiled.

  “If I remember correctly, the last time you did that your father took a switch to you,” Delia answered taking a step back.

  “It was all for show. It didn’t hurt, and father laughed. He said you and Little Bit deserved it for spying on me,” Wes confessed.

  “Spying? We were doing no such thing. All we were doing was taking a walk through the flower gardens behind your home. We never expected to see you kissing that red-haired girl.”

  “Ahh, yes, she was visiting her elderly aunt. I can’t even remember her name. It was my first kiss, but I don’t think it was hers. Interesting girl,” Wes admitted.

  “Humph, interesting indeed. You men are all alike.”

  Wes slapped his hand to his chest, “You wound me.”

  “I doubt that. Finish washing before the water gets cold,” Delia instructed. “If the dishes aren’t clean you won’t get breakfast in the morning and I know how cranky you get when you aren’t fed regularly.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  They continued their light-hearted banter until the kitchen was clean and retired to the parlor. Delia sat near the lamp to read a bit before bed and Wes was busy making notes about the library. After Wes noticed Delia yawn three times, he suggested she get some sleep.

  Delia didn’t argue. It had been a long day and tomorrow would be another busy day. There always seemed as if there was something for Delia to do.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Bright morning sunshine filled Delia’s kitchen, and clear blue skies promised a day without snow, but bone-chilling cold would welcome anyone who stepped outside. Delia was concentrating on reading her cookbook when she heard a knock on the door. Carrying her book in her hands fascinated by the suggestions on frying the perfect egg so that she wouldn’t break the yolk each time she tried to fry them for Wes, she reached the door and held the book while she opened the door. Expecting Penny or one of the other ladies from town, she was surprised to see her stepmother standing on the porch.

  “Addie, what in the world are you doing here?” Delia exclaimed.

  “I need to speak to you. May I come in? It’s cold out here,” a visibly shivering Addie asked.

  “Of course, come in and get warm.” Delia opened the door wide and closed it quickly as soon as Addie entered.

  Addie rushed past Delia toward the fireplace. Delia turned expecting to see Addie warming her hands but stopped mid-turn to see her stepmother standing there with a derringer in her right hand.

  Addie waved the gun toward the settee and said, “Sit down, Delia, we are going to talk.”

  Still gripping her new cookbook, Delia walked to the settee and did as her stepmother asked wondering why she was there and what she wanted.

  Delia doing her best to remain calm asked, “What do you want, Addie? Does father know you’re here?”

  Addie’s laugh caused chills to run down Delia’s spine. “If I had my way, your father would be dead, but I can’t get close enough to him to shoot him. I thought I’d shoot the person he loves most instead. After all, this entire situation is your fault. If you had just married Steffen, we would all be happy.”

  “No,” Delia insisted. “You would be happy. I would be locked away in your grandfather’s hunting cabin.”

  Confusion crossed Delia’s face. “How did you know that? Did Steffen tell you?”

  Delia shook her head. She couldn’t mention Mercy or the dream she had the night she left New York. “I don’t remember. I suppose he must have.”

  Addie waved the gun around. “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters now. I’m sure you know that Steffen has disappeared. What you don’t know is what your father did to me.”

  “My father would never harm you,” Delia admonished Addie. “My father never lifted a hand to you. I am sure of that.”

  Hoping to keep Addie talking until Wes returned from his early morning meeting with the mayor, Delia asked, “Maybe I could understand if you tell me what happened.”

  Addie frowned but nodded, “It should have been one of the happiest days of my life. I received your telegram telling us you married Wesley Satterfield. It did ruin my plans with Steffen, but a marriage into the Satterfield family would benefit your father and in turn, benefit me.”

  Confused, Delia asked, “Then what’s wrong. You should be back in New York happily spending my father’s money.”

  Addie laughed again. “I should, but I’m not. I’m here. Let me finish my story. Shortly after receiving your telegram a messenger from your father’s office arrived and brought me a note from him. He had made arrangements at my favorite restaurant to celebrate your marriage. I wore my best dress, and his carriage picked me up. We had a delightful dinner spending nearly two hours drinking wine and enjoying the best the restaurant had to offer.”

  “That sounds like what I would expect from my father. I still don’t understand.”

  Addie blew out a breath and continued, “On the way home, I noticed we were going the wrong way. When I questioned your father, he said he had something to take care of before going home. We stopped in a neighborhood I had never visited, and he took my hand leading me into a strange building. We walked to the third floor, and he unlocked a dirty door at the end of the garbage strewn hall. He told me to enter, and when I did, I saw all my trunks and bags sitting in the tiny one-room apartment.”

  Delia bit back a laugh knowing how her stepmother must have reacted but the gun in Addie’s hand made her swallow the laugh and scrunch her eyebrows instead. “He didn’t throw you out, did he?”

  Addie held her head high. “Yes, he did. He told me that he would pay the rent on the apartment for as long as I decided to live there. He handed me an envelope and said I would receive a similar amount each month for food and necessities. It was less than our meal at the restaurant cost.”

  “But why?” Delia asked already knowing the answer.

  “Your new husband sent a telegram to your father explaining what Steffen and I planned. As he was leaving, he told me his attorney would contact me about a divorce. He told me it was more than what Steffen would have given you. He nearly agreed to Steffen’s wish to court you and knew you would have been locked away in the cabin. Your father was quite angry. He left me alone in that dreary, dirty building. I was terrified. I wanted to leave, but it was dark. Who knew what lurked on the streets and I didn’t have the money to go to a decent hotel,” Addie confessed.

  Delia prayed Wes would come home soon and glanced toward the window hoping to see him. She didn’t, but she saw Mercy standing on the porch smiling at her. Delia drew courage from her angel friend and spoke.

  “It couldn’t have been that bad. You managed to afford a ticket here,” Delia answered.

  Addie nearly screamed at Delia, “I had to sell some of my jewelry. Your father didn’t give me all my jewelry, but there were a few pieces. I think he kept the beautiful pieces that belonged to your mother. I think he was more generous with her than he ever was with me.”

  “I’m sorry,” Delia lied. She wanted to tell Addie that her experience was the life that she wished to force on Delia but kept quiet.

  Addie glared at Delia. “You know this house you live in is ten times nicer than the hovel your father abandoned me at. Do you know he also told his friends at the club about my plans with Steffen and of course they told their wives? None of my friends would speak to me once I was able to gain the courage to leave the apartment. Yo
u have no idea what it is like to be alone and frightened in a strange place.”

  “But you weren’t alone. New York is full of people, and I’m sure you could have walked out of that neighborhood and found somewhere you liked,” Delia replied getting a bit tired of Addie’s complaints.

  Addie stood and began pacing. “You don’t understand. I didn’t know where in the neighborhood I was or how to find my friend’s homes. I asked a man standing outside the building when I finally dared to leave, and he smirked at me. He said I didn’t need to leave to find any friends. He smelled of alcohol in the morning. Can you imagine? I rushed down the street and finally found a carriage. I stopped at three houses before one of my former friends was kind enough to tell me that no one would receive me in their homes. He also stopped me from accessing our bank account or the accounts at the stores where I shop.”

  Delia sat wondering what she could say. It appeared having Addie talk was making her angrier and more unstable.

  “Please, sit, Addie. You must be tired. I could make some tea.”

  Addie nodded, “Tea would be nice, but I still plan to shoot you. Your father has to suffer for what he did to me.”

  “Addie, please don’t be so angry. I’m sure father will change his mind after a few weeks. He is trying to show you what my life would have been like if Steffen abandoned me in your grandfather’s hunting cabin,” Delia lied but prayed it would stop Addie’s hateful feelings.

  “Do you think so? I would be happy again, but he would never choose to take me home if you were around to remind him of what I planned. No, I should shoot you,” Addie explained in a calm voice that unsettled Delia. Her stepmother was ill and needed help.

  Wes was walking toward the front door of the house when something made him stop in his tracks. He didn’t understand why, but he knew he needed to look into the parlor window without being seen. He shook off the feeling and tried to walk again, but the dread covered him like dense fog on a cold morning. He felt an odd feeling crawl down his spine and fear flooded his heart. Something was wrong.